Politics

"Daba-doop-doop-dead," he says without a hint of melody. Not one muscle in his face moves.

I always trust my inner racist. He shows me the score.

"No sirree." He shakes his head.

He nods in agreement with this advanced piece of conceptualization. Having mulled it over the lieutenant says: "That sounds about right, yes."

"We should go talk to the locals, find something else to do while the wind changes. It's pretty bad right now."

"He is." He points to the corpse.

He would follow you into death itself... and you would do the same for him.

"Martinaise is very lucky. Only one in a thousand cops wakes up as the Superstar Cop."

"You must have me confused with someone else. I'm just a regular, down-to-earth law official."

"I would never do anything interesting like that. I'm trying to become the world's most regular cop."

"No. That's not me anymore. I am a Superstar Cop now."

"My colleague has an exploratory sense of humour. Don't hold it against him."

"I'm sorry. I'm the Sorry Cop."

"That's not me anymore. I am just a regular cop now. Regular law official."

"Disco Infernum."

"No. That's not me anymore. I am the Cop of the Apocalypse now."

It's good we discussed your history with her, he thinks. I can play along.

"Hear that, Kim? I am a huge deal around here."